


Moonlight and Mako

by VoidySkelecat



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Dissidia: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy IV, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cecil and the gang trying and failing to fit in, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Eventual Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Lunarian nonsense, M/M, Multi, On Hiatus, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Dirge of Cerberus, Zack and Aerith are alive because I said so, ensemble cast (FFVII), forced interdimensional travel, plus a lot of ffiv folks, that no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2019-10-01 04:42:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17237627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidySkelecat/pseuds/VoidySkelecat
Summary: It felt wrong. He'd spent years of his life traveling the world, carried by airships, chocobos and his own blistering feet, but he'd never seen mountains quite like these. This both baffled and unsettled him - given their size and distinct, inexplicable shape, they'd be visible for hundreds of miles around. Of this he was certain.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I left what I had written of this to stew for a few months, and when I finally came back, I decided I wasn't happy with it. I feel like what I was putting out at that time wasn't polished and I was focusing too heavily on getting weekly updates out. It just wasn't working. I don't write quickly. From now on I'll be putting out more polished chapters once or twice a month.
> 
> Everything I had has been edited, and a few chapters have been combined for length.

The wind howled around Cecil, biting at the exposed skin of his face. Around him, black, twisted crags of stone rose up from the earth like the skeleton of some long dead monster. The stone was unnaturally warm and formed an obsidian path down the mountainside. Cecil followed it as it spiraled downwards. He kept his head down as he walked to shield his eyes from the falling snow, and he kept his footsteps slow and deliberate in an attempt to minimize the noisome scraping of his armor.

It couldn't have been more than an hour since he'd been out in the forests surrounding Baron with Rosa and his Red Wings. It had been a training exercise of some kind, it's purpose lost when some offhand comment made the whole thing devolve into a race.  He could still hear his men's raised voices and the plaintive cries of their birds as they'd maneuvered through the trees. Someone behind him had managed to get their bird trapped in a bush, and another had nearly collided into a tree, only to end up on the ground in a mass of armor and warking feathers.

The men were sturdy. The birds sturdier. So he'd let them be and raced onwards, ignoring Rosa's shouted complaints.

He'd face the tongue lashing later. Or not; there was laughter in her voice.

He'd burst into a clearing with a pond holding the moon and a family of deer, up to their knees in it as they fed on water plants. One of his captains emerged behind him, hot on his tail. His bird had stumbled and Cecil was thrown to the ground. Between one moment and the next, something must have spirited him away for he found himself falling for far too long amidst a sea of stars. His head hurt, his eyes ached, and it was unbearably cold. Thick, white flakes fell around him, doing their absolute damnedest to bury him alive.

This in itself was wrong because it had been late Summer in Baron. The worst they had at that time of year was the occasional rolling thunderstorm. Sometimes, in a fit of mischief, a mage would cast a Blizzaga over the castle town as a prank, but this was too much even for that. Someone would have had to summon Shiva herself to do this.

That and level every town, cut down every forest for miles around.

It felt wrong. He'd spent years of his life traveling the world, carried by airships, chocobos and his own blistering feet, but he'd never seen mountains quite like these. This both baffled and unsettled him - given their size and distinct, inexplicable shape, they'd be visible for hundreds of miles around. Of this he was certain.

He hadn't seen anything like this in World B either, when Materia had dragged him and his friends away from their world that first time. Yet there was something inexplicably familiar about it. Not in its appearance. Definitely not that. He rubbed his face, tuning out the wind and the wind and focusing on the other sound. The persistent buzzing that he'd felt in the back of his mind since arriving. He'd ignored it at first, too busy trying to process his impromptu Warp, but he'd managed to calm down since then. And he _knew_ this noise. He'd felt it back in the place Cloud and Tifa had called Midgar. It had gotten louder and louder the closer he'd gotten to Make Reactors that ringed the Eldritch city. Cloud had guessed Cecil was sensitive to the Mako itself. Cecil didn't know. He’d heard it on the moon too, and he wasn’t certain there was mako in his world.

What he did know was that if it _had_ been the Mako, then there had to be a reactor somewhere nearby, and that meant civilization was but a stone’s throw away. Civilization and answers.

A sound disturbed Cecil from his thoughts. He parted his fingers and scanned the area around him before dropping his hands to his sides to get a proper look. Something or several somethings had begun approaching him, concealed by the rising claws of stone and the throes of the blizzard. Moving too quietly for a normal human to hear. He slowly turned towards the sound, his hand snaking to grip the hilt of his blade, and waited.

Something flew from the darkness, quick as the wind. Ragnarok sang as it was drawn to meet the assault of the animal. It had charged in from the left, breaking away from the others. Teeth clashed briefly against metal as the animal was flung to the side. Cecil whipped around to meet the charge of a second. It came to a stop, throwing up snow and barking at him, cowed by the blade. Now in clear view, he was able to get a good look at his assailants. They were some kind of wolf with leonine manes and tails as long as their bodies. Something about the one before him was distinctly wrong. It's jaws were split into two sets and its eyes glowed a poisonous green. Its sides were as lumpy as a pillow stuffed with rocks. Tumors or abscesses. As they crept closer, Cecil realised that many of its fellows were similarly disfigured.

Cecil didn't get a chance to be taken by horror before the wolf got over its own fear and pounced. It's movements were clumsy and frantic, easy to dodge, and a clear symptom of its poor health. Cecil kicked the animal clean in its jaw before it managed to bite him. A sharp whine of pain pierced the air as it lost its balance and toppled into the snow. Ragnarok flashed as it cut through the animal, which immediately went still,  turning the snow red as it bled out. There were traces of sickly green in the blood and a great deal of puss. It stunk like nothing else, and Cecil was forced to hold back a gag.

The smell was familiar. The animals absolutely _reeked_ of Mako. The buzzing in his head had gotten louder with their arrival, as well, though only fractionaly, and he couldn't help but wonder if they'd ingested it with contaminated prey or water. It would certainly explain the unnatural green haze of their eyes. He'd seen the exact shade ringing Cloud Strife's pupils, and that of the other men too. Zack and Sephiroth. Zack _had_ mentioned mako infusions, hadn’t he?

There was a noise to his right and Cecil spun to strike down one of the remaining wolves mid-leap. It went the way of the first, hitting the ground with a startled yelp, blood, poison, and pus seeping from a deep cut in its side. Gripping the hilt with both hands, Cecil brought the tip of the blade down on the wolf’s skull before it could rise. This one had vestigial limbs sprouting from its side. An extra leg, a few eyes, and a pair of small, withered wings. He’d seen worse on monsters back home, but this is wrong. He doesn’t get a chance to think about how wrong it really is before he was forced to fend off another wolf, sending it scurrying with a well aimed kick. It doesn't retreat altogether. It and its fellow circle him, too driven by hunger or madness to consider fleeing.

He'd made a misjudgement, one that came back to bite him in the most literal of senses as a third animal, black as the crag it was hiding by, burst from the shadows and barreled into him. It sank its teeth into the exposed part of his arm as he was knocked down into the snow.

Cecil’s head struck stone and for a moment, he saw stars. He raised his blade as his vision cleared, just in time to catch the wolf’s jaws as it went for his throat. He heaved, forcing the animal to rear back or risk having its mouth cut wider by his sword. The wolf lunged again as he was struggling up, and Cecil only just managed to bring his blade up fast enough to bury it between its ribs. He gagged at the smell of its poisoned blood and forced the reeking thing off of him. He scrambled to his feet, taking a defensive stance as the remaining wolves (Bahamut, he _hoped_ this was the last of them) circled him with more caution than before.

Cecil watched the one before him and listened to the soft padding of the one at his aft. He clenched his jaw and attempted to keep his wounded arm steady. Hot pain pulsed from the bite as it bled and flowed downwards, staining the pristine blanket below a bright red. He needed to cast a Cure on himself but doubted the wolves would give him the precious few seconds he needed to do so.

He found himself wishing for Rosa.

His eyes darted towards a sudden movement at his side. A wolf  was charging full speed towards him. He raised his blade, turning towards the animal, but could hear another movement behind him as the second wolf joined the charge. He could only face one of them at a time, so Cecil focused his attention on the one in front of him. It sprang into the air, fangs bared, and Cecil raised his blade to meet the attack.

Just then, the acrid scent of ozone (perfume compared to the wolves’ blood)  filled the air and a crackling blue light pierced the white haze. The wolf was knocked out of the air with a harsh of shock and pain as a streak of lightning lanced into it. Cecil spun to face the source as the boom of thunder filled the air and the remaining animal turned tail to flee, eyes wide with panic. A man with spiky blonde hair stood a short distance away, the massive blade hefted above his head still crackling with electricity.

Cecil’s eyes widened with disbelief and recognition.

"Cloud," his throat had gone dry and his stomach was on the verge of committing mutiny. Materia and Spiritus had brought them back, hadn’t they? To fight again, because gods knew those two attracted conflict like metal filings to magnets.

The adrenaline began to fade and exhaustion and pain hit him with the weight of a meteor, making his body as heavy as lead..

Oh Bahamut, he felt ready to pass out right there and then.

Cloud's eyes flickered as suspicion was replaced with recognition and concern. His mouth pulled into a thin line as he rested the blade on his shoulder. “Cecil..? How are you here..?"

“Did Materia bring us here again?" Cecil manages to ask.

Cloud cursed and muttered something in a language that wasn't the Common Tongue.. “I...no. You shouldn’t be here.”

Cecil flicked the gore from his blade and slipped it back into its sheath, making a mental note to give it a more thorough cleaning at a later time. “What do you mean?”

“Give me a second,” the man replied. “And take care of that” he gestured at the bite, “before you bleed out.” He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a small square of glass and metal. Cecil watched with confusion as he poked at it and brought it to his ear, and then with absolute bafflement as he began speaking into the thing.

An panicked voice carried from it before he could finish.

“Yeah, I know. I know. Tifa…” He paused as if listening, a sigh of exasperation escaping his lips. “Listen, I’m sorry, but can we talk about it later? Please?” Another pause. “Please, if you’ll just listen for a moment...” his voice sounded strained, and the voice stopped before sounding again, softer this time. “Cecil’s here.”

Silence, then a question.

“I don’t know. I was on a hunt and found him up Mt. Nibel fighting a pack of wolves. He’s okay. Mostly. Still hasn’t bothered to heal himself,” he gave the paladin a weighted look, “but he’s lucid.”

Cecil’s cheek warmed with embarrassment and he decided that now was as good of a time as any to tend to his wound. He began murmuring a quiet chant under his breath and lifted his hand above the bite. A warm feeling spread from his core, rushing to his hand and bringing with it a white light that enveloped his fingertips. There was a flash he finished the casting and the light jumped from his fingers to the wound. The pain eased away and he could feel his skin knitting itself back together. Feeling eyes on him, Cecil looked up to met Cloud’s gaze.

“He’s fine now,” he said. “Finally got to it. Apparently, he doesn’t need materia in this world either.”

Pause.

“Yeah, I’ll call Cid.”

Pause.

“Listen, I know. Vincent’s in Nibelheim again, I’ll have him pick something up for us.”

Pause. "I know, but there's still clothes in the mansion, we'll just…

"Fine. I’ll call you again if anything else comes up.”

Cloud terminated his conversation with box by snapping it shut and cramming into his pocket.

“What was that?” Cecil asked, approaching cloud.

“A cell phone.” He replied. When Cecil opened his lips to ask just what exactly that meant, he shrugged and terminated that particular conversation with “I’ll explain later.”

Cecil shook his head. Even it felt heavier than it should have, and a headache was rapidly setting in. “I’m going to assume you haven’t gone mad for now.” Though Cecil felt like he might at this rate.

Cloud snorted and waved off the sour look Cecil gave him in reply. “We need to go,” he turned before Cecil could respond and began walking away. Cecil let out an aggravated sigh, swiping a hand through his hair and trailing after the shorter man.

Cloud led him to a large black machine that was unlike anything he’d ever seen. As Cloud climbed on the back of it, Cecil dropped into a crouch to better examine it but found he couldn’t make heads or tails of its workings. Some of the parts made him recall the kind he'd seen in the guts of the Lunar Whale, but most were utterly foreign. Briefly, he wondered if the machine was Lunarian in origins but immediately pushed the thought aside. He was from another world, his people couldn't possibly have had any influence in this one.

“Cloud, what is this?” he finally asked.

Cloud didn’t respond. He was talking on the cell phone again, and was actively ignoring the paladin as he spoke into it. Cecil sighed and sank down into the snow, too miserable to mind the cold that was seeping through his armor, and waited.

 

* * *

 

Leaving Cecil to his examination of Fenrir, Cloud pulled out his cell phone and dialed Vincent’s number. After ringing for almost a solid minute (had Vincent even bothered to set up a voicemail?) the ex-Turk finally answered with an all too friendly “Did you need something?

“Yeah, you’re still in Nibleheim, right?”

“For now."

Cecil looked up from his examination of the bike and asked something, but Cloud gave him little more than a glance and a dismissive wave. He’d have time for questions later. “Do you think you could dig something up for me?”

Vincent was silent for a moment. “That depends. It’s not piano-related, is it?"

“No, I....this has nothing to do with a piano, can we drop that? I picked someone up near Mt. Nibel,” Glancing back at Cecil, he saw the man had sunk down in the snow, and was sitting with his back pressed to the bike and a distant look in his eyes as he fought to stay awake. He was once again struck by how gaudy the knight’s armor was. There was absolutely no way he’d be able to go anywhere without garnering some kind of attention.

“And?”

“He’s kind of well...he sticks out."

To say the least.

“You'll have to be more specific," because for all Vincent knew, Cloud could have found another ex-SOLDIER, and returning with Zack in two had been more than enough.

“Do you remember when Marlene kidnapped you and forced you to read that fantasy novel with her? The one about the Knights of the Round?"

“Yes."

Cloud can almost _feel_ him wincing. Vincent didn't know how to deal with younger kids. Marlene adored him nonetheless, and was over the moon with excitement whenever he visited. Yuffie claimed it was because he had “big dad energy.” Whatever that meant. 

“He looks like one of them, but gaudier.”

Vincent was silent for a few moments, presumably trying to make sense of the statement. Maybe he wouldn't have if he'd been there to see Exdeath, Kefka, and Cecil himself. “Is he an actor..?”

Cloud shook his head. “No. He’s...I’ll explain when we reach Nibelheim, but he needs clothes.”

“I can arrange that, but don't expect anything nice. Do you know his sizes?”

His sizes? Did they even have sizes where Cecil was from? He'd be given the impression that their clothes were made by hand, custom fit to the wearer. Well, he supposed it didn't hurt to ask.

Cloud lowered the phone. “Cecil!”

Cecil, having drifted off, jerked awake and looked up at him. He looked like hell. “Yes?”

“What size are you? Clothes wise, I mean.”

Cecil frowned in reply. “I don’t know what you mean, my friend.”

Of course he didn’t. “He’s a little taller than Cid,” he told Vincent, his voice touched with exasperation  “and it’s a little hard to tell with the armor, but he’s pretty close to me in build.”

Vincent made an affirming sound. “I’ll meet you both at the Shinra mansion then. Is there anything else?”

“No, that’s it. Thanks.”

Without so much as a goodbye, the line went dead. Shaking his head, Cloud tucked his phone into his pocket and looked down at Cecil.

The paladin rose to his feet, eyes asking an unspoken question.

“We’re meeting up with a friend of mine in a nearby town," he told him. Cecil nodded. “Tifa?”

“No one you know. Get on.”

Cecil nodded and joined Cloud on the bike. “What is this, by the way?”

“A motorcycle,” Cloud replied, reaching inside his coat to retrieve his goggles. He pulled them on and opened a small compartment on the front to get his spares. He handed them back to Cecil, who examined them briefly before following suit.

“Is it a sort of hovercraft?”

Cloud blinked, caught off guard by the question.

“No, I imagine not. It has wheels.”

“You have those in your world? Hovercrafts?”

“...you don’t?”

“No, we do, I just...I'd just kind of figured you didn’t have that kind of technology in your world.”

Cecil smiled wistfully. “Oh yes. Airships too. Our fleet is the pride of Baron. Then there was the Lunar Whale, but it’s…” Cecil trailed off, his gaze fixed on the front of the bike before growing distant.

Cloud didn’t feel the need to push him to continue, instead leaning forward and gripping the handles. With a mechanical wine, Fenrir woke and shot forward. Behind him, Cecil gave a startled cry and grabbed Cloud’s shoulder to steady himself. Cloud flinched at the sudden contact, but didn't resisted the urge to lash out. He made a U-turn and headed back in the direction of Nibleheim.

 

* * *

 

Too fast…!

While the hovercraft had moved fairly quickly, the motorcycle’s speed blew it out of the water. It was nothing compared to one of Cid's ships, but they hadn't been this close to the ground. That meant he didn't run the risk of falling off and being crushed beneath a pair of fast-moving wheels. Feeling sick and panicked, Cecil pulled his scarf up around his face and leaned against Cloud, quietly apologizing for invading his personal space. Cloud murmured something in a halting tone, but the words were snatched away by the wind. Cecil didn't bother asking him to repeat.  

One nauseating trip later, the motorcycle came to a stop. Cecil was off the bike before Cloud could finish saying “We’re here.” and on his hands and knees in the snow. He felt like kissing the ground and probably would have if he weren't so busy vacating his lunch into it.

“You okay..?”

Cecil rose, a bit unsteadily and still nauseated as all hells. He turned towards Cloud, who’d dismounted the bike after him. “Yeah, just...that may take some getting used to.”

Cloud put on a mask of a smile and Cecil found himself caught off guard by the gesture. Cloud never smiled at him, fake or no. He'd barely spoken in their brief interactions, all too content to sit back and listen while Cecil rattled on about this or that, showing a stunning lack of interest in any of it. It had made Cecil anxious and part of him had wondered if he was annoying the ex-SOLDIER. Tifa had assured him that he wasn't and that Cloud was "just like that sometimes."

He’d spoken more in the past half-hour than he had in the few months they’d fought Materia’s war.

Cloud approached him, meeting his eyes briefly before continuing on. “Let’s go.”

Cecil turned to follow him, taking in his surroundings as he went. Before them was the biggest, and arguably most threatening mansion Cecil had ever seen. The style of architecture was foreign to him and it was clear the place had been abandoned for decades. Vines and fire scars marred its face, yet its windows remained strangely intact. The glass must have been to last.

“Is this where we’re meeting this friend of yours…? This place doesn't seem very...hospitable.” Cecil was unable to hide the weary edge in his voice..

“You’ll understand when you meet him.”

They continued up the path. As they drew closer to the front steps the door swung open and a man swathed in crimson emerged. Cecil’s hand went for his blade, but Cloud seemed nonplussed by the man’s appearance, even going so far as raising his hand in greeting. Cold red eyes met Cecil’s and a feeling of unease overtook him. There was something inexplicably off about the man, though Cecil couldn't place exactly what.

“This is Vincent,” Cloud said, tilting his head back towards the waiting knight.

“This is your friend?”

“Yes,” Cloud looked back towards Vincent. “Vincent, this is Cecil.”

“You know him?”

“So does Tifa and Zack," Cloud said in a tone that promised that eventually wasn't going to be elaborating on the fact anytime soon. Vincent didn’t bother asking either, turning and disappearing inside the mansion with Cloud in tow. Cecil trailed after them, fingers locked firmly around Ragnarok’s hilt.

The mansion’s insides were worse off than its shell. Years of water damage had left the carpet rotting and faded and the stairs looked ready to collapse at the slightest offense. The place reeked of mildew, Mako, and rot. He could hear things moving in the rooms above. There was no possible way this place was safe.

Vincent stood at the center of the room, a dark bundle in his arms. He raised it towards Cecil in a silent "take it." Cecil accepted it and immediately frowned, The material was thin and unfamiliar and smelled faintly of chemicals. The style was more akin to the kind that Cloud and Squall's lots had worn, but older and more threadbare. Given the condition of the manor, it’d be no surprise if insects had nested in them. 

“You’ve probably guessed by now that this isn’t your world,” Cloud told him.

“Nor is it Materia and Spiritus’s,” Cecil confirmed. He hadn’t been given much to work with on that front, but this world felt too well put together. It had a more organic feel than the hastily thrown together land of the gods.

“No.”

Cecil lifted one of the garments, a knitted grey shirt that must have been white in its better days. He gave Cloud a puzzled look.

“People don’t run around in armor here.” Cloud elaborated.

“You do realize that I wear clothes on underneath the armor…?”

“Dark age clothing won’t go unnoticed, either.”

“Excuse me?” He said, more out of confusion than offense.

Cloud pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just...go change please.”

Cecil hesitated. “We’re not leaving my armor here, are we?”

It wasn't a question, really. They wouldn't. He wouldn't allow it.

Vincent turned his eyes to Cloud. “I can call Reeve and see if someone from the WRO can pick it up. Are you heading to Edge after this?”

Cloud shook his head. “Could you call Cid? Tifa asked me to earlier but I haven’t gotten to it. I don't trust the WRO people to not lose or sell it."

Vincent made an affirming noise. “Were you going to have him bring the airship..?”

Cecil blinked, surprised to hear the words “Cid” and “airship” used in the same sentence. The stocky engineer's grinning face filled his mind, accompanied by an inevitable stab of worry. They would have noticed his absence by now and all of Baron would be in turmoil. He needed to find a way home, and fast. He pushed this train of thought aside and began walking away, leaving the two men to their conversation and escaping into one of the nearby rooms.

The hinges creaked and struggled against him, and when he managed to force it open he was greeted by a storage room. Barrels and crates were stacked up against the wall, sharing the space with silk plants, suitcases, and various odds and ends. An unpleasant looking blonde man and his equally unpleasant child glared down at him from a dust coated painting. He made a face and took the painting down and laying it down on the ground. He didn’t need an audience. That done, he dropped the bundle on one of the barrels and began the tedious process of removing his armor. He could almost understand why he shouldn't be wearing the armor (cultural reasons, perhaps) but he wasn't comfortable with the idea of being without it somewhere so far from home.

When he'd stripped down to his undergarments, he snatched the bundle from where he'd left it. His already poor mood had only worsened. He felt naked without the armor and was half tempted to put it back on, march out there, and throw a royal fit. But he was a king and a paladin and a temper tantrum wasn’t befitting behavior for either. So, just this once, he’d give in. 

Fighting his growing anxiety, Cecil pulled the shirt over his head and examined the rest of the clothing he was to wear. One look however and, _Bahamut on high_ , he didn’t want to. The pants and long coat that had been bundled up with it were a deep, inky purple and a stark black respectively. He eyed them for a few moments, fighting back his rapidly mounting unease before it could bloom into a panic attack, before closing his eyes and forcing them on. He hated wearing dark clothing. It reminded him of things he'd much rather forget.

Just as he was putting on his sword belt, a loud knock sounded at the door, startling him from his thoughts. “Are you okay in there?”

It was Cloud. Had he really been in there that long? He grabbed his scarf from the floor, rolled it up and tied it around his waist, determined to keep at least that. Briefly he considered asking if he could wear his cape in place of the coat, since Vincent had his, but determined it was probably too gaudy to get away with. Discarding that line of thought, he plucked his sword off the crate and fixed it onto the belt before returning to the door and pushing it open. It complained as it gave, drawing Vincent’s gaze from across the room. “I hope the sword won't be an issue, I'm reluctant to leave it behind,” It wasn’t a question. If he was going to run around bare as he was, he would at least have something at hand to defend himself with. 

Cloud rested his gaze on silver and cobalt sheath before shaking his head. “No, it should be fine. Just don’t let it get stolen. Vincent pulled a few pairs of boots out from storage, so you should have something to wear on your feet besides the…” his eyes drifted to Cecil's feet, “oh, good, you remembered to put the socks on.”

Cecil gave Cloud a withering look. His gaze drifted to the stairway, where Vincent was doing some prize-worthy lurking, and then down to the line of scuffed up boots he’d lined up against the bottom step. He walked over, stepping over them, and sat down on the steps. Wordlessly, he grabbed a pair and eyed it momentarily before putting it down and grabbing another.

“Cloud told me how you met,” Vincent said after Cecil had tried on his third pair of boots. “It doesn't make a great deal of sense, but I've experienced things... almost as strange.”

“Are any of them as strange as being whisked away to another world?” the paladin glanced upwards. Vincent was tapping the tree rings in the wood as if he were counting them. He very well might have been for all Cecil knew.

“I’ve seen people who should have been long dead return fully intact,” he replied.

That, perhaps, was a close second.

After a few minutes of trial and error, Cecil managed to find a pair that fit. He quickly laced them and rose to his feet. A quick surveyance of the room revealed that Cloud had vanished. He could hear his voice drifting out from the storage room and guessed Cloud was on his cell phone again, possibly talking to this “Cid” he and Vincent had talked about. He looked back at Vincent and found he’d sat down on the stairs. His eyes had  fixed on a painting of a pair in white coats and he was thrumming the golden claws of his odd prosthesis against his leg.

“Do you mind if I explore a bit?”

Vincent rolled his eyes towards him briefly before returning them to the painting. “Do what you want.”

“Alright. Tell Cloud where I went, if you could.”

Vincent nodded in reply but said nothing more. The painting must have been fascinating to him. Curious, Cecil turned his gaze to it. The man in it was extremely plain, but his features were made ugly by the odd sneer he wore. Beside him was a woman, heavily pregnant and forlorn. They might have been married, since they didn’t look enough alike to be siblings. Something about them, about the look of the man and the misery in the woman’s eyes, told him the marriage wasn’t a loving one. 

Cecil returned his gaze to Vincent, finally daring to get a better look at him. He was pale as a corpse and his hair was a mess. The cloak he wore was tattered, his boots scuffed beyond repair. His expression was unreadable.

“Did you know them?”

“Yes,” he fell silent and remained so until the stretched on long enough to grow awkward and Cecil was forced to ascend the stairs to escape it.

The buzzing in the back of his head only grew louder.


	2. Chapter 2

In its prime, the abandoned manor must have been a grand sight, but dilapidated as it was now, Cecil found it downright creepy. Not only was it in a state of outright ruin, but the halls were absolutely teeming with monsters, which certainly explained the noise he’d heard earlier. Among them were humanoid things with axes for abdomens, cackling balloon-like creatures that followed him in droves and floating, ghostly mirrors. Unpleasant as they were, he had no trouble cutting them down. They weren’t nearly as organised as the wolves had been. 

He found evidence of life in every room. Beds, still made, bottles of perfumes sitting on vanities, and wardrobes filled with dusty, moth-eaten clothing. Old books filled shelves in a few of the rooms and occasionally Cecil would find a materia buried amidst the relics. They were warm to the touch and absolutely singing with magic. Cecil tucked each one he found into the pockets of his coat; he’d keep the black magic spells for himself and either sell or give away the ones with white magic in their shining cores. He could think of at least one black mage that'd make use of those.

When his exhaustion became too much, he stripped a mattress of its bedding and fell onto it, sleeping soundly for a few hours before resuming his exploration.

In one of the upstairs rooms, he discovered a rounded section of wall made of  stones. It stuck out like a snake in a rabbit warren, drawing his eye the moment he entered the room. No stranger to hidden passageways, Cecil began running his fingers over the stone, searching for something. After a few moments, he found it - a small switch designed to blend in with the stone - and gave it a firm push. He was pleased when he heard  machinery whirring and the curve slid open to reveal a staircase that spiraled down into the darkness below. If he had to guess, the mansion must have been built over the ruins of a castle, and only this part had been left intact during the construction.

Cecil crouched down and cast a Sight spell down into the darkness. Light filled the pit, but it was massive and Cecil couldn't make out an end. He paused, contemplating whether it’d be a good idea to go down, decided it most definitely wouldn't be, and then began to descend anyway. What was the worst that could happen?

A long walk later Cecil found himself in a massive stone cavern. The area was lit by glowing lights that had been nailed to the walls. Crates and barrels sat in clusters  in places and the air was heavy with the scent of decay, and mako. 

Bahamut above, if he smelled anymore mako he'd go mad.

Further away could see a scattered collection of bones, too large to have belonged to rodents. However, the light was too dim to tell whether they had once belonged to men, or something else entirely. He approached them and spotted a jawbone peeking out from the pile. Definitely human. 

“A dungeon, ” he rose to his feet and left the pile. Either a lord had lived here once or a murderer. Possibly a combination of the two, given the overall feel of the place. The rich participated in all kinds of devilment when their hands laid idle for too long.

Cecil turned just as a splash sounded somewhere to his right and a sahagin emerged from the shadows. Startled, he spun to face it. As he did, he spotted a key ring hanging around the creature's neck. Noting it, he drew his sword to meet the amphibian's charge. He swung and beast hissed and ducked its head; Cecil's blade struck it and was knocked back uselessly.

“This blade has slain dragons, but can't pierce the armor of a lowly Sahagin.” He said, raising Ragnarok. A humorless smile touched his lips as he met the monster's gaze. The Sahagin clicked at him.

“Where are your fellows? Waiting in ambush?”

It took a step forward and bared its teeth.

Cecil figured a sword fight with this thing would be a losing one, and he wasn't entirely sure how to use materia or if they’d even work. Now, he could either run, which was the wiser choice or try something a little strange. He sheathed his blade and, on a whim, bowed.

The sahagin halted its advance and stared at him with a glint of curiosity in its eyes. After a moment it clicked a few times and returned the bow with one of its own. Cecil smiled, equal parts surprised and relieved. Rydia had taught them that while most monsters couldn't be reasoned with, a few were more receptive towards human words and gestures. Some, like sahagins, were intelligent enough to have their own forms of society and could learn to understand human speech and adopt some of their practices. She claimed that, once upon a time, humans and monsters had traded freely and even shared homes. It was pure dumb luck that Rydia's odd teachings would apply to monsters in this world as well.

He waited for the sahagin to rise before he followed suit, not wanting to risk another attack. The sahagin clicked a few times and began circling and gently prodding at him. He let it go through its investigation, holding still all the while. Once it was satisfied, it made a froggish grunt and plodded towards a nearby fissure. Stopping a moment, it pulled the ring, and the rope it was attached to, from its neck and tossed them to the ground near Cecil. Then it dove into the abyss with a splash and was gone.

Cecil took the ring and scanned the room. He spotted three metal doors and began moving towards the nearest one. He found it unlocked and upon entering discovered a number of stone coffins lying within. Each had a lock pad on them. Cecil lifted the keys, looked back at the stone deathbeds, and shook his head.

“I really shouldn't be disturbing the dead,” he told himself, then quickly added: “Kings and paladins are above such acts as grave robbing.”

His conscious  won over and he left the room.

He found coffins in the next room as well and was expecting more of the same in the last one. Instead, he was greeted by a room lined with glass pods filled with a glowing emerald liquid,  a number of bizarre machines he had no name for, as well as a few bookshelves. In the center was a metal examination table. A feeling of nausea filled Cecil as he connected the dots and Dr. Lugae's face filled his mind.

Not wanting to linger in the room longer than he had too, Cecil crossed the room and pulled open the door there. On the other side he found a long hallway, and at its end a large, shadowed library. He left the door open a crack and entered the room, running his fingers over the walls. His hand found a switch on one of the walls and flicked it up. The lights flickered on and a pale yellow light filled the room.

There was a table at the center with a number of open books covering its surface. They were host to a thick covering of dust, as if someone had gotten up and abandoned the place in a hurry.

Cecil took a seat at the table and picked one of them up, wiping the dust from its pages. He found the words written in a familiar tongue, but even after flipping to the first page he could make little sense of the contents. Words like “ Jenova” and “Cetra” cluttered the pages descriptions of the places he didn't know and procedures that both baffled him and made his skin crawl.

Really, who the hell had lived here?

Before Cecil could read further, the door creaked open and a woman in a blue suit stepped inside. The pair stared at each other for a few moments before Cecil jerked to his feet and drew his sword. Her appearance had been too sudden for liking and the gun in her hand didn’t look particularly friendly.

“Wait!” She said raising a hand defensively. “You're Cecil, right? My name's Elena; Cloud asked me to come to get you.”

Cecil hesitated. “Where is he?”

“Outside. He was helping Vincent load your armor into the truck.”

“Truck..?”

“Cid's on a mission with the WRO and couldn't bring his airship, so he called in a favor.” She replied.

“Oh, well, I suppose that makes sense,” he pushed Ragnarok back into its sheath. Honestly, not even half the words she’d just said made a lick of sense to him, but he figured he might as well pretend it did. Cloud hadn’t been explicit about it, but it was clear he didn’t Cecil drawing attention to himself. As badly as he needed to find a way home, the need to adapt to this new world was just as strong. He knew nothing of the laws and traditions of this world. Slipping up and getting himself imprisoned or killed would be detrimental.

Elena eyed Ragnarok a moment before meeting Cecil's gaze once more. “We should meet the others outside. Cloud doesn't like us very much and I don't want to risk him getting into another fight with Reno while I'm gone.” Her voice dropped to a murmur and Cecil had a distinct feeling that the statement was more for Reno’s sake than Cloud’s. She turned and disappeared into the lab.

Cecil gave the library one last glance and followed her out.

\----

Cloud wasn't the most social person, but he could put up with most people. Reno, however, was not most people. Since the truck had stopped in front of the mansion, the redhead had been spitting a near constant stream of questions and poorly disguised jabs. If it weren't for Vincent’s steady grip on his arm, he would have clocked the Turk ages ago.

“Hey, Spike, are ya’ listening? I asked you a question.”

“What?”

“Rude, he’s ignoring me!”

Cloud gave Vincent a pleading look but the gunner shook his head.

Rude, who's been leaning against the door of the truck, trying to look cool, finally spoke up. “Yo, Reno, they're back.”

“Oh! So I guess your friend didn't end up fish food.”

Cloud turned to see Elena emerging from the manor with Cecil at her heels.

“He's kind of weird looking, isn't he Rude?”

“Silver hair, ” Rude remarked.

“And look at that sword! Where the hell do you think he got that? It doesn't look Watain or Shinra made.”

“It’s none of your business,” Cloud replied irritably.”

“What, you got something to hide, Spike?”

“No. And shut the hell up.”

“The only way to make him shut up is to kill him,” Rude said.

“That can be arranged.”

Rude snorted and turned his head to hide the smile that crossed his lips as Reno let out an incensed “Hey!”

“Don't kill each other,” Elena said as she approached them. Despite the admonishment, she was clearly amused by the exchange. Cecil, however, looked both baffled and a bit uncomfortable.

“Are these friends of yours..?”

“Yeah, we’re buds. Right, Cloud?”

Cloud glared at him.

“We tolerate each other,” Rude said. Even with the sunglasses on, it was easy to see the way he eyed Cecil. More curious than suspicious.

“We should get going, ” Elena said, “Reno, do you want to drive?”

“Sure,” he darted to the driver's side, pulled open the door, and looked at Cecil. “Hey Silver, do you want to ride with us?”

As friendly as the offer sounded, Cloud could practically taste the ill-intent. The Turk knew nothing about Cecil, save the spoonful Cloud had given him and planned on getting more from the man himself. Turk's didn't like not knowing and keeping information from them was like trying to hide materia from Yuffie.

“You should ride in the bed with Vincent.” Cloud suggested, “Or on Fenrir with me.”

Cecil's eyes darted to the motorcycle and his face went a shade paler. “I don't...I’d really prefer not to ride...out in the open right now. I appreciate the offer though.” He made a beeline to the cab of the truck where Elena had opened the door for him. Reno looked absolutely  _ tickled _ and Cloud felt his stomach drop. If Cecil ended up blabbing, he could only hope the Turks would assume he was crazy or making things up, and even if they didn’t...really, what was the worst they could do? He was being paranoid. So long as the information didn’t reach the WRO, they’d be fine.

“You’re worrying, ” Vincent said as he climbed onto the bed of the truck. 

“When Turks are involved, I tend to worry,” Cloud replied.

“Do you worry when I'm around?” Vincent asked, a rare snake of amusement creeping into his voice.

Cloud snorted as he mounted Fenrir. “What, are you on Rufus's payroll again?”

Vincent looked towards the truck, but said nothing. His silence spoke volumes.

“Really?” Cloud raised an eyebrow, “I thought you worked for the WRO?”

“Not officially. Besides, the WRO is a little too...rigid for my taste.”

It wasn’t rigid structure that bothered Vincent, since he was free to do as he pleased so long as it wasn’t detrimental to the WRO’s cause, it was the people. Not everyone in WRO was accepting of Vincent’s condition, and a few were outright nasty to him. Not to his face of course, but the walls were thin when you had hearing as keen as his. 

“I thought you hated Shinra?” He was more confused than angry. He trusted Vincent enough not rage at his decision, but, still, it was strange. As far as Cloud had been able to tell, Vincent wasn’t on the friendliest terms with the Turks , or the man they served. 

“Weren't you the one who said Rufus had “gotten better”?''

Cloud made a face at Vincent and fired up his bike. As if it had read its riders mood, the machine let out an angry whine as it woke. Cloud shrugged and decided that maybe, just maybe this was a conversation for a later time. Ahead of him, the truck snarled to life, accompanied by an over enthusiastic whoop from Reno. 

The truck jerked forward, snarling in protest. The thing looked old, and now that Cloud really looked at it and he had a distinct feeling that it wasn't even theirs. How they'd gotten it and why they weren't using one of the company helicopters was a mystery to him, but not one he particularly felt like dwelling on. Instead, he snapped his goggles over his eyes and hit the gas, shooting after the Turks.

 

“Listen, Rude, it would have been fine just to send one of us. It's like Tseng things we’re going to get attacked or something.”

“Out here? Probably.”

“Okay, but we've got blondy, Vincent, and Cees back here,” He gestured at Cecil and the paladin averted his gaze, “It'd take a little more than a highwayman to take us down.”

“There are dragons up here, aren't there?” offered Elena. Cecil made a face, wondering if the dragon’s here were as much of a pain as the ones back home. Probably. He wasn’t eager to find out.

“They rarely come down from the mountains.” Rude replied.

“ _ Rarely _ , ” Elena insisted, “does not mean  _ never _ .” She smiled and Cecil was given the impression she wouldn’t particularly  _ mind  _ if a dragon ambushed them right then and there, if only  to prove her point. She’d get along swimmingly with Palom.

Cecil sighed and rested his head against the window. Determined to tune out the conversation and get some sleep. Reno had other ideas.

“Hey,  Cecil.”

He didn’t bother opening his eyes. “Yes?”

“Cloud said he found you up on Mt. Nibel. What the hell were you doing up there?”

“Trying to get down, mostly. And to avoid getting eaten by wolves.”

“Yeah, I figured that much, but _why_ were you up there _?_ Not even the locals liked going up there, and you were up there in a _suit_ _of armor_.”

“I wasn't there by choice.” He replied. His hand fell on Ragnarok and he began to strum his fingers on it in a nervous rhythm. He didn’t know these people and he didn’t like their questions. Elena seemed tolerable, but that didn’t mean she was trustworthy, and Reno and Rude made him uneasy.

Elena gave him a quizzical look. “Were you dragged up there?”

Cloud really hadn't told them anything, had he? “I suppose you could say that.” and left it at that. Reno didn't seem particularly satisfied with that answer, however, and continued to pry.

“Were you drugged? Did someone knock you out and drag you up there?”

“I don't know.” The thrumming turned into a tapping. “I can't remember.”

“Well, that's really fucking weird, isn't it, Rude?”

“And convenient” Rude agreed. 

“You're not from Nibelheim, are you?” Elena asked.

“Nope, ” Reno replied, before Cecil could say anything, “No one’s from Nibleheim, not anymore.”

“Cloud, Tifa, and Zack are,” Elena jabbed her thumb back towards the bike trailing them.

“They’re exceptions,” came the reply, “So tell us, where are you from, Silver?”

“Well…” Cecil trailed off. He couldn’t stick out. He considered whether he should name Baron or pull the amnesiac card. According to Edge, he was a terrible liar, so he opted for a third option. “Nowhere important.”

That was a lie too. Baron had grown into a center of trade and commerce since he’d taken the throne and even people living in out of the way villages knew the name. He’d been told that if Baron were to fall, the effects such an event would have on international trade would be devastating. His face screwed up as the words passed his lips. Fortunately Reno seemed to misread the expression and asked: “Not a fan of your hometown then, huh?”

“No that's not it,” he shook his head, inwardly laughing at the insinuation that he’d ever hate the country he grew up in.

Reno glanced at Rude and Rude glanced at Cecil, then back at Reno who nodded cryptically. 

“You hiding something, Cess?”

“Hardly,” he lied, “What about you?”

“Me? There's nothing about me that you need to know.”

“ _ Quid pro quo _ . You can’t keep asking me all these questions without expecting me to ask a few of my own.”

“He’s got a point, Reno,” Elena replied. Then, to Cecil she added: “That aside, people in our line of work like to keep our secrets. You know how it is.”

“You’re spies, then?” 

“It’s a little more complicated, but that’s the short of it.”

“Elena, shhhhh,” Reno hissed, “he’s going to clam up!”

Elena’s face went red and she began examining her knees. “We weren’t spying on you, specifically, if that makes you feel any better. We, Reno specifically, like knowing things, and we don’t know anything about.”

“I’m no one special, really,” he insisted.

Elena gave him a searching look, to which he replied with an easy smile. She exchanged a look with Rude and shook her head. Both of them retrieved their phones from their pockets, tapping away at the screens. Occasionally Rude would show his to Reno, who’d respond with vague gestures. Sometimes, when she didn’t think he was paying attention, he’d catch Elena staring at him. They were talking about him, that much he was certain of, though he couldn’t imagine what conclusions they were drawing. 

He made a mental note to ask Cloud about these people when he got a chance.

  
  


When they reached Rocket Town, Cloud immediately took the lead and made his way to Cid's house. While the owner wouldn't be there, Vincent had keys and he doubted the pilot would mind if they crashed there for the night. When they reached it, however, he found the lights were already on the door to the garage was wide open. A loud stream of swearing reached his ears as he eased Fenrir up the driveway; Cid must have gotten back from his mission while they’d still been on the road.

Cloud parked Fenrir as the truck pulled up behind him. Entering the garage, he found Cid bent over the engine of a decades-old car and stinking of oil.

“Hey.” 

Cid glanced back before returning his attention to the engine. “Hey, kiddo, is Vinny with you?” 

“Yeah, he's in the truck.”

Cid rose and turned. His eyes fixed on the truck as Reno and his merry band of idiots (and Cecil) began piling out. Cecil was rubbing his temples and looked downright exhausted, not surprising given the day he’d had. Vincent appeared a moment later, positioning himself between Cecil and Reno.

“Great, there's three of them,” Cid grumbled.

“Speaking of Turks, did Vincent tell you about-”

“Yeah, and I'm going to talk him out of it. Don't worry,” Loudly, he added: “Hey sweetheart!”

Vincent waved and made a beeline towards him, Cecil in tow. Reno began to follow, but a glare from Cid was enough to make him backtrack. Grumbling, he joined the other two Turks by the truck. Cloud motioned for Cecil to follow him inside and the pair left Vincent and Cid in the garage.

“That...what was that?” Cecil asked as they entered the kitchen.

“Which part?”

“The thing that man was working on. Another vehicle?”

“A car. That was Cid, by the way.”

“Funny.” Cecil looked thoughtful as stripped his coat off and draped it across the back of a chair. Then he fell into it and leaned forward, resting his head on steepled fingers.

“Funny?” Cloud asked. 

“I don’t know if I ever told you, but I have a Cid back home too,” Cecil replied “He’s a mechanic as well.”

“What's he like?” Cloud rested First Tsurugi against the table and took a seat across from Cecil.

Cecil smiled. “Loud, enthusiastic, and utterly fearless. Some call him reckless. He once jumped off an airship with a bomb in hand to keep our enemies from catching us.”

He sounded crazy if Cloud was going to be honest. “And he lived…?”

Cecil laughed. “Of course. His breed is hard to kill. The Dwarves found him and had him laid up in the castle infirmary. I’m surprised he didn’t empty their stores with how much he ate.”

Cloud made a face, imagining little folk with beards and horned helmets. He’d met all sorts during his time in Materia’s world, but never a dwarf. Though, he supposed the tarutaru and lalafell were similar. 

The door to the garage opened and Cid strode in, wiping his face with a stained rag. Vincent followed close at his heels and Cloud could hear the snarling of the Turk's truck as it started up. Vincent seemed distant and vanished to an adjacent room before Cloud could even raise a hand in greeting. Cid, meanwhile, had made his way to the sink and was scrubbing the oil from his skin.

Cecil appeared absolutely flummoxed and had risen to stare at the sink.

“I'm guessing you don't have running water back home, either?”

“No, I...where does it come from?” 

Of course not. They had airships but they didn’t have indoor plumbing. Fat load of sense that made.

“Pipes. There's a reservoir a few miles outside of town.” 

“Amazing…” 

Cid gave Cecil a puzzled look before shaking his head and joining them at the table. “Apparently Vinny got that offer from Rufus after the Remnants attacked Edge. He wasn't considering it at first but apparently, there's been talk of Rufus transferrin’ the Turks’ contracts over to Reeve.” 

Cloud raised an eyebrow. “And Tseng and the others are okay with that?”

Cid snorted. “Reeve's got pockets almost as deep Rufus's.”

While it didn't particularly surprise Cloud that the Turks’ loyalty could be bought, he still found this whole thing strange. 

“Besides, Rufus’s practically working for the WRO at this point,” Cid continued, disdain creeping into his voice, “Don't get me wrong, I'm all for the windmills and such that he's working on, but we've had to shuttle him to and fro more times than I like and he acts like his sorry ass  _ is in charge. _ ”

Cecil, having lost interest in the conversation, had gone to the sink and was running his hands under the faucet with a look of childish wonder.

“Having fun?” Cid asked. Cecil hurriedly turned the sink off, face going red in embarrassment. “Sorry, just getting a better look.” He returned to the table and proceeded to look everywhere but at Cid. The mechanic snickered.

“So now that he might be working for Reeve he's actually thinking of joining again?”

“Yeah, but that's only if the talks pull through.”

“You'd get to see him more often,” Cloud said, because their work separated them more often than either liked.

Cid snorted. “Yeah, there's certainly that. Still don't like the idea of him running around with  _ that lot  _ .”

As if on cue, Vincent returned. His hair was damp and his cloak and weapon were absent. He must have taken a shower in the short time he was gone.

“The bathroom's open if you need to use it,” he said, looking at Cecil.

The paladin rose from his seat, giving Vincent a quizzical look.

“Hey, Vinny, could you show him where that's at? They don't have running water where he’s from so I don't know if he'll know what it is.”

“Yes, if you could…”

Vincent nodded. “Follow me.”

Cecil followed Vincent out of the room. Cid called after them “Reno and Rude dragged your weird ass armor into the garage!”

“Thank you!”

Vincent would have to get Vincent to show him to. He hadn't been inside since Shera's mandated remodel of the place.

Cid turned back to look at Cloud. “So, Turks aside, do you have any idea what we should do with him? Vincent gave me a run down of his situation.”

Cloud shook his head. “I don't know.” 

“You haven't thought about it all? You're the one who picked him up, you know.”

“I...I know. I guess he can stay with us at 7th Heaven, but it's crowded and...I don't know. I’m worried he’ll attract the wrong kind of attention.”

Silver hair was unheard of in people his age, with few exceptions. And those exceptions were what Cloud worried about. Sephiroth was still fresh in people’s memories, and the story of his resurrection had spread faster than the plague. The WRO had tried to cover up the incident in Midgar, but there was still footage of his fight with Cloud floating around on the internet, right next to leaked files on the Deepground incident. If the wrong people learned about Cecil, he, and everyone around him, would be in danger.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway and moments later Cecil appeared. His hair was damp just like Vincent’s had been and he was twisting his beads back into it. The ex-Turk must have shown him the shower.

“Did I miss anything?”

“Nothin' important. Hey, could you go grab Vince for me? Tell ‘im I'm starting on dinner.”

Cloud sighed, relief swimming over him at the prospect of a decent meal. They could discuss everything later. For now, they could rest. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: When I initially started the fic, the Dissidia lore I was using to explain things was based on 2012/NT (etc). 
> 
> I decided I didn't like that and at the same time managed to catch up on Opera Omnia's story line. In my opinion, it's less messy that way.

While Vincent and Cid cooked, Cloud and Cecil waited in the living room, basking in the scent of salt and grease that wafted from the entryway. Cloud had turned on the monitor mounted to the wall and was watching something filled with shots of Cloud’s Planet and a smooth voiced narrator telling him about the lingering effects of mako drilling. Cecil had coerced Cloud into letting him use his sword kit and was tending to Ragnarok to keep himself busy. The show was distracting, however, and the vistas of Cloud’s world made him forget the blade resting in his lap.

As he was contemplating how broken it all looked, the front door creaked open and a feminine voice was carried inside. Cecil perked up and leaned towards the kitchen, straining his ears to catch the conversation that followed. But he found difficulty in focusing on both the shared words and the TV, and both were lost in the noise. He considered getting up to investigate but was saved the trouble when the owner of the voice appeared in the doorway. A woman with rich brown hair, round glasses, and practical clothing. The sort worn by the engineers back in Baron. She met his stare and grinned, pausing to wipe oil-stained fingers on her lab coat before entering the room.

“I hope Cid hasn't been too much of a bother,” she turned to Cloud.

When Cloud didn’t look up from the TV, she crossed the room and flopped down next to him, poking his shoulder like a kid begging for attention. He blinked as if he'd been woken from a trance and gave her a puzzled look. “No more than usual.”

“Good to hear,” she adjusted her ponytail before turning to Cecil.

“I don't believe we've met,” he said. The list of people he hadn't met was growing longer by the hour. Honestly, with the way things were going, he wouldn't be surprised if Y’shtola paraded in with her Scions of the Seventh Dawn.

“No, I think I'd remember someone like you, especially if what Cid told me is true. Cecil, was it?" he nodded and she went on, "My name's Shera - I work with the captain.”

“I imagine he's quite a handful.”

“He's a pain in the ass.”

There was warmth in her voice, the same kind Porom would use when telling him about her brother’s latest exploits. She didn’t look enough like Cid for them to be siblings (biologically, at least) but it was safe to assume the pair were close.

Vincent's voice drifted from the kitchen, calling her name, and Shera glanced back. “Well, sounds like I'm needed. You'll have to tell me about your world when we’ve both got time.”

Cecil nodded and Shera excused herself.

“Now would be a great time to catch up” Cecil suggested when she’d gone. “After all, we haven’t seen each other in years.”

But Cloud shook his head and rose from the couch. “Not interested.”

He then disappeared up the stairs, leaving an incredulous Cecil behind in the living room.

Cecil stared at his feet for a few minutes, frozen in place, then forced himself to his feet and chased after Cloud, fearful that he’d done something to upset him. He found him opening the windows in the guest bedroom.

A large grey cat was lounging on one of the beds. It shot Cecil a venomous glare before hopping down and fleeing beneath the bed. Sighing, he watched it go and turned to Cloud.

An apology had been bubbling up his throat, but instead he asked “You’re not interested?” He smoothed the covers of the bed and took the cat's place, already regretting coming up there in the first place.

Cloud didn’t so much as glance in his direction, but he didn’t seem particularly angry, either. He moved to the next window and unlatched it. “It’s probably a long story, ” he said, leaning against the frame “and I don't really feel like sitting through it right now.”

“Mine or yours?”

“Either. Both,” he shrugged, then turned away and leaned out the window. “I’m tired and I've got a headache.”

Realizing he’d hit a wall, Cecil let Cloud be and returned to the ground floor. Shera met him on the stairs, a cup of sweet smelling tea in her hands, and frowned when she saw the look on his face. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. Cloud’s just tired,” he averted his eyes.

“He’s probably overwhelmed,” Shera replied, “he’s not as likely to bolt as Vincent is, but when it gets to be too much he’ll shut down.”

“He’ll just take off?” he frowned, thinking back to Mt. Nibel, the mansion, and the ghost town they’d driven through on the way here. They must have gone there to decompress, something Cecil was no stranger to. The castle got noisy sometimes, especially during balls and parties, and by the time Cecil had reached adulthood, he knew of all the hidden rooms and secret passageways within Baron’s walls. So had Kain, who handled the noise even worse than he did. Though Kain’s anxiety often had him fleeing from the castle to wait in the surrounding woods, and more recently, out of the country entirely.

It was a miracle either of them had managed to climb their way through the ranks of their respective branches. Kain liked to joke it was nepotism. Cecil believed it was Rosa’s words of encouragement and their own desire to keep up with her.

“I know the type.”

Shera raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“A friend of mine vanished after we'd finished a journey together.”

Rosa had been all for sending the Red Wings out to hunt the man down after he'd missed their wedding and subsequent coronation. He’d agreed and they’d settled on small groups of trackers and dragoons, only to have them return empty-handed. No one could find Kain unless he wanted to found. They both knew it, but liked to keep positive.

Shera gave him a sympathetic look , “Vincent did the same thing after Meteorfall. Shelke and Cid managed to drag him back, though. I helped.”

She gave his shoulder a squeeze before stepping around him and continuing up the stairs.

He wondered if she was their Rosa.

Cecil’s mind wandered the rest of the night, his thoughts bouncing between the woman he'd married, the man he'd grown up with, his kingdom, and the friends he'd left behind. He ate, but only half listened to the dinnertime conversation. Cid and the others seemed to have no issue keeping the conversation running and none of them called attention to his or Cloud’s near silence.

By the time they finished eating and had returned to their respective rooms, Cecil had managed to work himself into a small panic. Unable to sleep, he stared up at the ceiling, listening to Cloud breathe.

With a quiet whine of frustration, he rose to use the bathroom to wash his face, hoping cold water would help clear his mind. The sink did little, so he stripped and stepped into the shower instead. The hot water and the noise were just enough to batter his internal storm down to a manageable state, but not to banish it entirely.

Still, when he returned to bed he was able to fall into an uneasy slumber.

He woke again at dawn to the sound of the shower running and drowned out music. As expected, Cloud was missing from his bed. His spot had already been claimed by the same monster of a cat that Cecil had met the day before. He watched the animal sleep, struggling to keep his own eyes open. Yesterday had been too much, and his lack of sleep was hitting him harder than it normally did. His was a losing battle, and after a few moments sleep claimed him again.

The third and final time, he woke to golden light and voices filtering up through the floorboards. He had a migraine, and felt as if he’d spent the night swallowing sand. After a whole minute staring up at the ceiling, he forced himself out of bed and took another shower. It eased the pain some, but didn’t keep it at bay long. He left the room and winced his way down the stairs.

Cid, Vincent, and Shera were all absent from the house, but Cloud was outside talking on the phone. He waved at Cecil when he saw him. The paladin stepped into the sunshine, bare feet sinking into the mud.

It must have rained the night before, as the whole front lawn had been transformed into a swamp and puddles littered the driveway. The air was cool and he paused for a moment to soak it in, closing his eyes to escape the harsh light of the sun.

Cloud finished his call and turned to Cecil. “Are you okay?” he looked him up and down, brow creased with worry.

“Headache,” he replied. Cloud pressed the back of his hand against the paladin’s forehead, only to withdraw just as quick. “Sorry. Kind of a habit. Denzel gets sick a lot and he likes to underplay it.”

“Denzel?”

“My kid.”

“You have a kid?”

Cecil thought briefly of Tifa, then banished the idea. They were close, but the way Cloud had broken down when they’d found Zack marked them as friends and little else. Tifa had been a mess too, now that he thought about it, when they’d found Aerith. So had the rest of Cloud’s friends but Tifa had _kissed_ Aerith right in front of everyone in the same way Rosa had kissed Cecil when she’d found him.

To put it simply, the idea of the two having a kid was odd at best.

“He’s not technically mine, but Tifa and I took him in, so…” he waved a hand dismissively, “Anyways, let me get you something for your head.”

Cecil nodded compliently and followed Cloud inside. Cloud spent the next few minutes rattling about as he searched for something, complaining under his breath all the while. Eventually he found what he was looking for, a small white bottle, and dropped a pair of blue capsules into his hand. He handed them and a glass of water to Cecil. Inferring he was supposed to eat the things, he stuffed them in his mouth, only to nearly spit them out when he was assaulted by the taste.

“Swallow it with the water. It tastes like crap, but it’ll make you feel better.”

Cecil made a face, winced through the pungentness, and downed the glass in a few greedy swallows. The taste was as bad as any healing herb, and lingered just as long. Cloud poured him a glass of juice to wash it down, then left the house with the excuse of needing to run some errands.

Alone, Cecil wandered the house, limiting his exploration to the first floor to avoid exasperating the ache in his muscles. There was plenty to see as Shera and the men hadn’t spared any expense decorating the place. There were bookshelves in the living room with models of airships and other mysterious devices displayed on them. Potted plants perched in corners and atop counters and tables, green and healthy. A few were in bloom.

In the kitchen he found a tall silver box that spat light and cold air when he opened it and had shelves cluttered with food. Magnets shaped like celestial bodies and ships cluttered its front, holding up documents and a white board with strings of numbers written on its face. There were photos there too - he recognized a few with Cloud, Tifa, Zack and Aerith, as well as Vincent, Cid, and Shera. He found Barret in another, a little girl who must have been Marlene was balanced on his shoulders and Yuffie posing beside them.

There were people he didn’t recognize too: a man wearing a blue coat and holding a naggingly familiar cat-shaped doll in his arms, a little boy who must have been Denzel, and a woman in a lab coat, holding hands with Shera. Several of the pictures featured a sunset colored animal with a flaming tail and beads weaved into its mane. A family pet, perhaps, though the intelligence in their eyes made Cecil wonder if there was perhaps more to it than that.

He had, after all, met frogs and pigs smarter than people.

A plate had been left on the table, its contents covered by a layer of shiny metal and a note bearing his name. It smelled of meat and grease (a food group all its own in that house) and he didn’t hesitate before ripping the metal away, revealing a plate brimming with eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns. It had gone cold, but he was too hungry to be picky and shoveled it down as fast as he could without forgetting his manners. When he was finished he left the plate in the sink with the rest of the dishes and returned to the living room.

The house was too quiet, so he picked up the remote and turned on the TV.

Seven people sat at a table. Three men and four women, all of them well dressed. He focused on one in particular, who he recognized as the man with the cat doll. Sans cat.

“-the gases produced by the burning of oil and coal linger in the atmosphere, and interacts with the ozone layer in a similar manner as mako pollution.”

“Therefore it isn’t sustainable and could prove to be just as damaging as mako. My company has damaged the Planet enough,” added one of the men. He was blonde and imposing despite his lack of bulk. Cecil hadn’t noticed them initially, but a pair of men - who he recognized as Reno and Rude - lurked behind him. They were doing a first-class job of it too. Had competitive lurking been a thing, they would have won first prize.

They were distracting, so Cecil returned his attention to the main group.

They went on to rattling out estimates and locations and chatter about the benefits of windmills and hydroelectric dams. It all sounded well and good, even if Cecil didn’t understand some of the terms. What he did learn that was things like the TV and lights were somehow powered by electricity, and that it could be produced using the energy from the elements or by burning oil and coal. This part at least, is familiar to him. Part of what made airships work was their electrical components, powered by charged magicite and spellwork. None of the circle mentioned anything about magicite, however.

By the time the program ended, he’d seen places the oil and coal was harvested, the plans for machines they were building to replace it, as well as the airship that Cid ran. The ship had been brought up near the end of the program as a prime example of how magic could be used as an energy source for motorized vehicles. She was a beautiful ship, the kind his own Cid would cry for, and Cecil felt a growing desire to see her up close.

The program ended, leading into another focusing on the Planet’s dragons and featuring some rather unnerving close-ups. Upon seeing the black, twisting form of a shadow dragon, Cecil turned off the TV. The very image of the thing was enough to dredge up unpleasant memories, and he was in no condition to think of his brother right then.

Eager for a distraction, Cecil set about going through the shelves of books in the living room. He was nose-deep in dense tomb focusing on the exploits of Shinra Electric when Cloud returned. Cecil looked up from a picture of the blonde man he’d seen on TV (who the other six had called Shinra) just long enough to murmur a greeting before returning to his reading. Cloud plopped something down on the table and Cecil was hit with the scent of Eblanese spices, which did a fantastic job of tempting him away from his reading.

“I picked up lunch,” Cloud elaborated, popping open a white container and handing it, and a set of chopsticks to him. “Can you eat?”

The medication had cured the headache as promised _._ His throat still felt a bit raw, but the smell of the food was too tempting for him to care. “Yes, thank you,” he accepted the container and busied himself with the meal.

Not even a few bites in, a thought struck him and he traded the food for the book. Turning the pages towards Cloud, he asked: “Do you know him?”

Cloud rolled his eyes when he saw the photo. “Yeah, unfortunately. Him and his dad’s company nearly killed the planet. He’s not as powerful or destructive as he used to be, but he’s still a pain in the ass. Him and Reeve still talk. Business stuff, mostly.”

“Reeve? The man with the cat doll?” Cloud made a face and Cecil added, “I saw the pictures on the cold box-”

“Fridge,” the swordsman clarified, the edge of his mouth quirking into a smile.

“Fridge. He was on TV earlier, too. So was Shinra.”

“Rufus’s working with the WRO to put up windmills and stuff. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize the doll.”

“No, I…” he trailed off as something clicked together in his head, “Cait Sith? Why did he have Cait Sith?”

“He made him,” came the reply, “technically, he was puppeting him the entire time.”

“That’s…” something occurred to him just then, cutting off his previous line of thought. “Why did none of us ever see him?”

“He wanted to avoid the fighting so he found a place to hole up and hid there. Me and the others would go check up on him sometimes. Didn’t want us to talk about him, either, since Sephiroth liked hanging around us.”

“They didn’t get along?”

“Reeve worked for ShinRa and Sephiroth killed the president. He probably would have killed the rest of ShinRa’s executives, too, if they hadn’t been outside the building when it happened.”

“Reeve was fearful he’d finish the job, then.”

“Pretty much.”

They lapsed into another silence, polishing off their food, and didn’t speak again until they’d finished.

“Cid’s planning on taking us to Edge,” Cloud told him. “Tifa, Zack, and Aerith are there. Barret too, and we can call Reeve if you want. They might be able to figure something out. With your situation I mean. Even if it’s just somewhere to stay until you’re able to get home.”

Cecil nodded. “It’s a start, thank you.”

With an easy smile he added “I don’t think I’ll be here long, though. This isn’t Materia related, I think.”

“Yeah. I hope that’s the case.”

 

* * *

 

 

Golbez woke to absolute darkness and the feeling that something had gone off kilter. The air smelled wrong, the way the wind moved was off, and the steady song of the moon, always with him, was absent. In its place was a persistent, static hum. He sat up, pulling his cloak tighter around his body and kindling a fire spell in his hand. He was in a cave of some kind, but the stone wasn’t moonrock.

He rose to his feet and opened his palm, quietly chanting a spell. A flame sprung to life in his hand, and he let it dance over his fingers as a scholar would a pen.

Before him stretched a dark tunnel laiden with glittering crystals and colorful orbs protruding from the stone. Pretty as it was, it didn’t tell him where he was. So he moved down the passageway, following the glimmering path of crystals until he reached a place where they began to glow. The tunnel gave way to a spring of glowing fluid with more of the crystals clustering around its edge. When the glow was as bright as lamplight he killed the flame.

The buzzing was stronger here and with it came a whispering at the edge of his mind. Voices, not unlike the kind he’d heard on the moon, yet utterly alien at the same time.

The longer he stayed there, the louder they grew. He lingered for a moment more as his blood turned to ice. They sounded angry. Distressed. Questioning. They couldn’t figure out why he was here, and it scared them.

This wasn’t earth, or the moon, and he didn’t belong there. He hadn’t worn his armor in months, but he suddenly felt very naked without it.

He turned and fled the cavern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact number 2: I really like Golbez. I like him a little less than the some of the other IV characters, but he's pretty high up on my FF villain list. Right next to Ardyn and Sephiroth.
> 
> Some art of After Years Golbez and Kain for anyone unfamiliar with the designs:   
> https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/finalfantasy/images/b/b3/TAY_Novel_Cover_2.png/revision/latest?cb=20120707212727  
> https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/finalfantasy/images/6/60/FF4TheAfterIllustration2.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20120707013849
> 
> Plus his sprite: https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/finalfantasy/images/7/7d/TAY_iOS_Golbez.png/revision/latest?cb=20150131005416


	4. Chapter 4

The plan was to leave for Edge the following evening. Cloud had already called Tifa to work everything out. They’d pack Cecil’s meager belongings into the Highwind and haul ass across the continent. When they got there, they’d see about getting Cecil a decent wardrobe and put him up in one of 7th Heaven’s guest rooms. 

Cecil was grateful, but couldn’t help but worry he’d inadvertently made himself a burden. He’d do something to help out. Cleaning, fixing the place up, or even finding an actual job once he was better acquainted with this world’s customs. 

The Rocket Town trio fed them again over the conversation, one that led into a discussion of Cecil’s origins and stretched well into the night. They were easy to talk with, especially Cid. He possessed the same cheer and indomitable stubbornness as his own Cid. When Cecil brought the similarity up, as well as their shared penchant for building airships, the man outright laughed and stated he was glad the other was living up to his name. 

There was something itchingly familiar about the interaction, though Cecil couldn’t place what.

After all was said and done, everyone retired to their respective rooms. Cecil and Cloud were busy readying themselves for the night when Cloud’s phone began to buzz across the nightstand. He snatched it from the air as it tumbled clean off the edge.

Frowning, Cloud pressed the device to his ear. “Nanaki? What’s up?”

The blonde sat in silence, listening to the tiny voice that squeaked from the phone. His grew deeper the second, darkening his eyes and setting him picking at the fabric of his pants. Something was wrong. 

Eventually, he exchanged a few final words with the voice and hung up.

Cecil rose from the bed when Cloud began yanking his boots on.

“What's going on?”

“It’s…” Cloud shook his head and swore under his breath, “I'm going to go wake up Vincent and Cid. Get dressed and meet us downstairs.”

Cecil frowned but did as instructed. He tilted his head and listened for a moment until he heard Cid's voice carrying down the hall, muffled and angry. He finished lacing his boots, snagged Ragnarok in passing, and left the room.

He found Cloud waiting downstairs, arms folded and pensive. He didn’t seem to notice Cecil’s arrival. 

Cecil let him be and a few minutes later Cid and Vincent appeared at the foot of the stairs. The pair had gone to bed hours before, leaving Cloud and Cecil to their nocturnal activities. Cid had the look of a Behemoth woken from hibernation and Vincent was rubbing his eyes and sporting the look of the living dead. Red eyes made redder by how bloodshot the whites were. Both were fully dressed and armed despite the abruptness of their awakening.

Cid gave Cecil a curious look when he noticed him loitering nearby, “He's coming too?”

“Coming where?” the paladin asked. The not knowing was beginning to wear at him.

“Cosmo Canyon was attacked,” Cloud told him as if that brought any clarity to the situation. Then to Cid, he said, “We might need the help.”

Cecil shook his head. “Cloud, that tells me nothing.”

“Our friend Nanaki lives there with his family,” Vincent elaborated. To Cloud, he added, “Last I heard from her, Shelke was staying there too, but she may have taken off to check on Genesis.”

“Yeah, and those two can handle themselves fine,” Cid added, rubbing his eyelids. “Who in Ifrit's flaming hell would even _think_ of attacking the place and why can't they handle it?”

“A horde of monsters and a new Bahamut variant.”

“Bahamut?” Cecil asked. “The father of Eidolons?”

Vincent gave him a curious look. “Eidolons?”

“Does that mean anything?” Cloud asked.

“No,” he said, though his eyes narrowed and grew distant. Cecil had no memory of telling Vincent about the Eidolons, and Cloud had never been particularly interested. He made a mental note to ask him about it later. Now, however….

“We need to go,” Cloud said, bringing the conversation to a screeching halt. There was a faint strain in his voice. Subtle to the point of being nearly undetectable.

Cid huffed, drawing his phone from his pocket. “Yeah, yeah, hold your damn horses. I need to make a few calls or we’re gonna be the only ones manning the Shera _.”_

Cid disappeared into the kitchen, flicking the light on as he entered and filling the area with a warm orange glow.

“If there's going to be a fight, I’m getting my armor.”

Cloud and Vincent exchanged glances and the blonde shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

 

* * *

  


Halfway across the continent, Cosmo Canyon burned.

Kain had arrived in the sleepy little village little more than a week prior. Sleep-deprived and dehydrated from his unwilling journey through the desert, the place had appeared to him as a shining oasis. 

The people there were welcoming, if not utterly baffled by his appearance. He felt the same way about them but chose not to remark on it, not wanting to offend his hosts.

It didn’t take him long to suspect he'd been pulled into another world. His rather abrupt departure from Mt. Ordeals was his biggest clue. The machinery and clothing of the people a close second. During his stay, he learned and heard things that further cemented this and he took it upon himself to learn more.

Cosmo Canyon was outfitted with a rather sizable library, and he quickly became engrossed in his studies. The people left him alone for the most part, not out of aversion but of politeness, and were often too caught up in their own studies to even notice him. Occasionally he was brought food or recruited into a hunting party. He was even given “more sensible” clothing in place of his armor, something more suited for the heated climate. Beyond that, his interactions with the people were few and far between. 

At least until Nanaki came home.  

Nanaki was a creature caught between a lion and a wolf. His eyes shone with intelligence that was contrary to his animal appearance, and his demeanor was gentle if not a little withdrawn. He immediately took an interest in Kain, noting the dragoon's “unusual scent” and bizarre aura. He followed Kain throughout his studies, answering questions and asking a few of his own. He had nothing to hide, and neither did Nanaki.

“I have been everywhere, but nowhere have I met a human who knows so little of the world and so much about another,” Nanaki said one day, “So I can only presume elsewhere is where you're from.”

Kain praised him for his astute observation but couldn't help but feel amusement at the creature outright accepting something so outlandish. But since Nanaki was a beast with the mind of a man, there was little doubt he'd be more observant than his two-legged counterparts.  

On the eighth day after his arrival, Dark Bahamut appeared in the sky, bringing with him an army of monsters. Kain's and the Canyon's peace was shattered as flames filled the buildings and devoured the centuries of knowledge they held. Kain was caught between fighting and aiding in the evacuation - there were so few fighters in Cosmo Canyon and the monsters had them vastly outnumbered. More than half the town was evacuated into the surrounding dunes, but many were killed in the initial onslaught and the ensuing chaos. 

Kain returned to the blazing town after the evacuation, intent on finding Nanaki, who had rushed ahead of him to hunt for survivors.

He found the beast grappling with a circle of Bombs, casting Blizzaga spells and tearing into them with his teeth and claws. Kain rushed to him, leaping mid-run and slamming down on the largest of the monsters. He danced back as it detonated, taking a number of its fellows with it, before turning to help Nanaki finish of the rest.

Bahamut roared and launched itself from its cliffside perch. The Draconian’s eyes were fixed on a great metal airship ship as it descended from the clouds, filling the air with a great echoing noise.

“Backup, I hope,” Kain approached Nanaki and stood at his side, staring up at the ship.

“Yes, ” Nanaki said. “Watch.”

From the ship emerged a figure in black, too distant to properly make out save its shock of yellow hair and the great blade it held in its hand. As they watched the man cut his blade across the great dragon's face, he couldn't decide if they were brave or mad. The dragon let out an indignant screech as its assailant dropped down onto the plateau below. Kain rushed forward and launched himself skywards, landing a few yards from where the swordsman now stood.

“You could have gotten yourself killed doing that,” Kain said as he approached. The blonde turned to look at them and they both fell silent, eyes lighting up with mingled recognition and confusion. 

“You're...Cloud Strife,” Kain said after a moment.

Cloud nodded, muttered something under his breath, and turned his attention back to the dragon circling above them. It dove, maw wide and claws outstretched in a furious scream, and the two warriors rushed to meet its charge. Cloud lifted his buster sword to meet the creature head-on as Kain pushed off into another leap.

At the same time, three more figures dropped from the ship's hull: a man dressed in brilliant crimson, followed by a man with blazing eyes and a spear in hand. Kain paid them no mind, instead splitting his attention between the dragon swooping beneath him and the familiar armor of the third figure.

 _Cecil._ One of the last people he wanted to meet here. Gods, what a day this was turning out to be.

Kain bore down on the creature, pushing his Dragon Lance into a break in the armor at the back of the dragon's head. It screamed and stumbled as it landed. As it fell forward Kain could hear the crash of metal and the boom of gunshots. Pulling his spear free he rushed across the head towards the eyes, leaping and twisting mid-air to bury the lance in a socket.

Bahamut rose to its feet amidst the slew of attacks and attempted to sweep him off with one of its great paws. He pushed away with enough force to rip the eye from its socket. Suddenly deprived of half its magic, the dragon was vulnerable to the next wave of attacks. Kain landed near the others as Cloud, hardly more than a blur, unloaded a number of heavy attacks on the Draconian. With one last, heavy blow the dragon collapsed and dissolved in a blast of shadow.

Kain glanced past him to the others and found Nanaki had scaled the cliff-face to join in the fray and was padding towards Cloud.

“You were quick.”

“Sorry we couldn't get here faster.” The blonde replied. Had he smiled?

The fire-beast shook his head. “No worries my friend, I'm just glad you made it in time.”

“Kain!”

The dragoon turned at the sound of his name and found Cecil approaching him. Slowly. Hesitantly. He somehow looked flummoxed, anxious, and utterly pleased. 

Kain paused - it had been almost a year since he'd seen his friend and it was unnerving to see him now. “Cecil.”

Caution gone, Cecil rushed him, dragging him into a hug before he could think to stop him. “Rosa's going to kill you when she sees you again,” he said in a voice as bright as starlight.

Kain rested a hand on Cecil’s back. Confused by the absence of anger and utterly flustered by the sudden contact.

“Is she in this world as well?” he asked, keeping his voice even.

“No, she should still be back in Baron. I do intend to drag you home when we return, however,” he murmured. Kain pulled away and shook his head. He was getting ready to tell Cecil exactly _why_ that couldn't happen when Nanaki blew past them, shouting something about the fires.

Cloud and the other two men rushed after him. Cecil looked to him, eyes wide with confusion. “What _was_ that creature?”

“Nanaki. He’s a few rings smarter than a Hummingway” Kain replied. “There will be time for introductions later. For now, we have fires to stop.”

Cecil nodded and, without another word, the pair chased after their friends.

 

* * *

 

The fire was gone, but the town was soaked. Cloud left Leviathan out, paranoid that another attack would come. Cecil stood with his face turned skywards, watching the great serpent snake through the great sheet of clouds it had made. It was strange seeing an eidolon in this world, familiar in name and shape, yet wildly different in spirit. As suddenly as it had appeared, the summon vanished in a burst of blue light as the spell keeping it there reached its limit. Cloud must have expended the last of his energy keeping it there. 

Hours after the attack, people had begun trickling back into town. Trucks and helicopters loaded with both supplies and soldiers followed. Groups of them entered the caverns to assess the damage and make sure the last of the monsters had been cleared out. When they were deemed safe the townsfolk reentered them to attempt to salvage their possessions and what remained of the Canyon’s library. Kain, who’d remained with Cecil up until then, left with the firebeast Nanaki to check the observatory at the town’s summit. When they returned, Nanaki’s tail drooped and he looked as miserable as an animal could. 

“It’s gone,” was all he managed to say before slinking off somewhere. Kain moved to follow him, but Cecil grabbed his shoulder before he could go. 

“We need to talk.”

“This can wait.”

Cecil shook his head. “No, I assure you it can not. I haven’t seen you for months, Kain. Months! Rosa and I have worried to the moon and back about you.”

The dragoon looked down, avoiding eye-contact. Without his helmet to hide his emotions, Cecil could see his shame as clearly as the moon. Shame, embarrassment, and something else too smothered for him to make out. “I needed to be alone.”

Cecil pinched his brow. “Kain, we’re not kids anymore. You can’t just run away and hope everything will get better. I know everything gets to be too much, but we were beginning to get _scared,_ Kain. I was scared you might have-” 

“Yet you didn’t come looking for me.”

Cecil swallowed and gathered himself. “No. I knew if I did you’d only run away.”

“And you were scared of what you might find,” Kain said, insinuating something neither of them watched to touch on.

He laughed dryly. “We’re cowards, then. The both of us.” 

It was true. When they were younger Kain would lock himself away for hours at a time. Cecil would never bother looking for him, fearing confrontation. It was always Rosa who’d spend hours sniffing out his hiding spots and talking him out from behind closed doors. If Cecil and Kain had been arguing, she’d make them talk it out, and if anyone had been harassing them, she’d always find a way to make them apologize. Half the castle’s children were terrified of her because of it, and most knew better than to harass her boys. But she wasn’t here, and there was nothing stopping Kain from running away again. All he could do was hold on.

“Cecil, you’re going to bruise me if you keep that up.”

Cecil let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. A shaky laugh rattled out with it and he released his grip on Kain’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

The dragoon shook his head. “Don’t apologize. It wouldn’t have been the first time you’ve left me bruised.”

“Ha.” 

Several moments of uneasy silence passed before either spoke. 

“I had my reasons for fleeing, but I won’t name them until we return to Baron. I need both you and Rosa present.”

“I understand, but answer me one thing: where were you?”

The clouds were beginning to clear, spilling the dawn’s growing light into the bowl of the Canyon. The puddles of water gleamed as if they were filled with fire. Kain poked at one of them, sending ripples dancing across its surface. 

“Mt. Ordeals.”

“Were you hoping that you’d awaken as a paladin, too?” Cecil tried to joke. His heart wasn’t in it.

A smile graced Kain’s lips. “Something of that sort. Now tell me, how have you and Rosa been?”

“Fine. We’d be perfect if we hadn’t spent our days worrying about a certain dragoon,” Cecil returned the smile lopsidedly.

His guilt mounting, Kain said nothing.

Cecil went on “Rosa and I wed in your absence. We sent for you, but never received a reply.”

“Oh,” he fixed his eyes on the camp in the middle of town, frowning deeply. The tension thickened.  “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Cecil replied.  

An uneasy silence settled between them. Neither knew what to say next. To do.

Kain was the first to break it. “I’m happy for you, Cecil, genuinely. After all, we’ve been through, you deserve to be happy. You and Rosa both.” 

He was trying to remain composed, but Cecil could hear the strain in his voice, see the way he avoided eye contact. 

“Kain, I…”

“I should be checking on Nanaki. He can’t be taking this well.”

He left and Cecil watched him go. There were things that needed to be said, but they were too heavy to be dragged into the light. He settled for silence instead, rubbing his face with the hem of his scarf and marveling at the marvelous wrecks they were.

“Lover’s spat?”

Cecil spun to face Cid, startled by his light-footed arrival. He didn’t look to be the quiet type, but then again, Cecil hadn’t really been paying attention. 

“No, it’s….I assure you we’re not....” he faltered and clamped his mouth shut, face burning.

“Sure,” Cid replied, eyes twinkling with laughter. There was lit cigarette pinched between his fingers, releasing a rancid smelling curl of smoke. He gestured towards the gathering “The WRO’s setting up tents. I’d claim one if I were you. Can’t have you dead on your feet if whoever summoned that thing decides they want to finish the job.” 

Cecil wanted to argue, but he knew he’d look childish if he did. Instead, he nodded in agreement. When Cid strode past him, heading in the direction of the makeshift camp, he followed. He felt like a dead man walking, and he was certain Kain had felt the same. He’d looked it, at the very least. 

Perhaps he’d be able to get the words out after he’d rested. 

 

* * *

 

Nanaki laid curled up beside Cloud, head resting on his lap as he dozed. He was limp as a ragdoll and more depressed than he’d ever seen him. First, he’d lost his grandfather, then the home he’d grown up with. Cosmo Canyon would recover but who knew if the observatory would ever be rebuilt. 

Kain sat across from them with his forehead pressed to the spear caught between his legs. He’d came to comfort Nanaki, but had barely spoken a word. Cloud could tell he wasn’t altogether there. 

“You two seemed fine in Materia’s world, did something happen?”

“No.”

Then they’d never been fine. They’d just been keeping up the illusion of everything being okay. 

Cloud didn’t pry. His phone rang and he was saved from the uneasy silence. 

“Zack?”

“Shit, Cloudy, are you okay? Cid called us and told us what happened.”

Someone in the background sang “ _buttercup, sweetheart, darling…”_

Cloud chose to ignore it, half-expecting the owner of the voice to erupt into a fit of poetics. 

“I’m fine. Just...tired. No one died. None of _us_ died, I mean.” 

He wasn’t going to think about casualties right then. He didn’t have the energy or the emotional capacity to handle it. 

Gravel crunched behind him and Cloud looked up to find Reeve there, expression grim. It seemed Cecil would get to meet him after all. Cloud wished it could have been under better circumstances. 

“Are you still coming to Edge? I mean, not today of course, but soon?”

“As soon as we can.” 

A beat. A breath.

“I love you, you know that? And I know you can handle yourself, but be careful, okay?”

“I love you too,” Cloud stumbled over the words. He meant them but was unused to saying them out loud. Part of him still felt he didn’t deserve Zack’s affection and some days that part was as big as the moon. 

Today, especially. 

“And I’ll be careful.”

“Promise? I’ve got a running bet with Aerith. If you come home scratched up I’ll owe her lunch for a week. She’ll clean me out, Spike. My wallet’s already crying.”

The edges of Cloud’s mouth quirked up in a smile and the moon got a little smaller.

“Promise.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kain and Cecil not being able to handle their feelings? It's more likely than you think. Exhaustion isn't helping.
> 
> Also, yes, Kain did pull an Estinien there. What can I say, I love my dragoons.
> 
> Dragons on Gaia and IV's Earth work a little like the ones in XIV-their magic comes from their eyes.


End file.
